


Soul for a Soul

by terminatortom



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 02:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terminatortom/pseuds/terminatortom
Summary: Following the events of Endgame, some Avengers can’t coping as well as the rest. Some left a piece of themselves back on Vormir, a piece they’ll never get back





	Soul for a Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Disney, Marvel or any of the Avenger characters, if I did, then believe you me I wouldn’t have left the cinema rubbing tears out my eyes

It had been four months still since the fight against Thanos, four months since they had brought back everyone who had been lost from the ‘snap’, and four months since they lost three close friends. 

If you didn’t look too closely at the Avengers Headquarters that had been rebuilt with the help of T’Challa and Wakanda, then it would appear like everything had gone back to the way things were, perhaps even better considering the technological updates provided. However, if someone was to look that little bit closer at what was happening, then they would see something had been irrevocably changed.

“I thought I requested everyone to be here.” Nick Fury’s voice boomed out announcing his presence before anyone could see him, as he rounded the corner to what would pass as a lounge. Already knowing just who would be waiting for him, or more importantly who wouldn’t be. “Where is Agent Barton?” aiming his question at Bruce, or was that The Hulk, the amalgamation of the two was something that he couldn’t get used to. 

“Clint,” Bruce started, green eyes flicking up to the former directed of S.H.I.E.L.D but looking at something that only he could see. “Ronin, is on a mission.” Sighing in frustration as he used the former Hawkeye’s alias. It was a name that Bruce didn’t like using, as it only served as a further reminded of what had changed since Thanos first came to their planet the, for the first time four years ago.

“I wasn’t aware that we had any current missions,” Fury responded, eyebrow slowly raised in curiosity. He was used to Clint going off and doing his own thing when he had been part of S.H.I.E.L.D, hell when there had even been a fully fuctioning S.H.I.E.L.D.

“There isn’t,” T’Challa spoke softly from his spot in the corner of the room, dressed in his immaculate black suit which seemed to pass as his usual attire, when he was meeting with the other Avengers outside of Wakanda. “Clint makes his own missions, something he feels he needs to accomplish.” Just what that was, was anyone’s guess at this point in time. If the distant look in their friend’s eyes was anything to go by whenever they asked, then they were better not knowing.

Letting out a tired sigh that he dint know he had even been holding in, Nick walked around the four seater white couch, his gaze dropping to his hands before he sat down.

“His family haven’t seen him in the last two, nearly three weeks.” Rubbing his freshly shaved head as he spoke, footsteps echoing off the tiled floors signalled at least some of the other Avengers were on their way to see him. “I thought he would have wanted to spend this time with them now they were back.”

“He lost his family,” came the broken reply from Bruce, green eyes met brown for a second, before he turned to look out of the large windows and towards were every Avenger had played their part in protecting Earth. 

The ornate fire crackling in the centre of the room, was the only sound that filled the silence following Bruce’s statement. 

Any rebuttal that might have been forming on Fury’s tongue died a death, the more he thought about it. Whilst on one hand, they had managed to reverse Thanos’ snap and brought back Clint’s wife and children. On the other hand, achieving that had cost him perhaps the person that knew him better than anyone else on the planet.

“Do we know what continent he’s on?” Fury asked tiredly, his gaze flicking between the other two people in the room. The subtle pitter-patter of rain bouncing off the large glass windows seemed to echo the feeling in the room, as the lack of answer gave him the last one he wanted.

“Clint turned his locator off 36 hours ago,” there was no mistaking the sadness in Wanda’s voice as she smiled sadly to T’Challa and Bruce making her presence known, before coming to stand in front on the fire, gazing intently at the dancing flames.

Fury’s eyes seemed fixed on a spot that only he could see, as he fought the urge to throw something across the room. His mind racing to where the former Hawkeye could have gone, and he wasn't liking any of the ideas that came to mind. He had seen his self destructive path on former agents before, and it never ended well. Never

T’Challa toyed with his goatee, watching the other three people in the room and the emotions playing across their faces as they spoke about the missing Avenger. Whilst he had never spoken to Clint himself, outside of their battle with Thanos, he had heard enough about him from the other Avengers to quickly realise that if he didn't want to be found, then he wouldn't be. That was to say nothing of the state of his mind, which had visibly been getting worse, what he said next, he knew the man in question would hate having disclosed.

“He was having nightmares,” T’Challa’s voice came out low and softly, as did most things he said unless you sparked his ire. “I heard him back the same plea to someone every-night, before he left.”

“No, please no.” Wanda’s voice broke as she repeated the words she had also heard coming from his room at night. Looking up, she made no attempt to brush away the tears that were prickling at the corners of her eyes. Even if he hadn’t sought her out once everything had gone back to some semblance of normality, she didn't think there could be any question about just what was plaguing his thoughts at night. 

Bruce brushed away the tears that had made their way down his cheek, as he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat hearing those words. He had tried bringing Natasha back when he reserved Thanos’ snap, out of his own feelings of affection and thoughts of what could have been, with the former KGB turned S.H.I.E.L.D agent. If he was honest with himself, it had never occurred to him what the man who went against orders, and refused to kill her all those years ago had been going through. 

Bruce would admit, if only to himself, in another time and place without the threats of aliens invading the planet, or A.I creations trying to kill them all, that he could have seen himself falling in love with Natasha. However, as much as he didn't like to think about it, and having heard just how you acquired the Soul Stone, there was no doubting Clint and Natasha had loved one another in ways no one would ever truly understand. Even during his brief ill fated, courtship? if he could even call it that, there was no mistaking the looks the two had shared when they thought no one was looking. That was to say nothing of the arrow necklace, that Natasha had treated like one of the most precious things to her. As much as it hurt for him to admit it, Bruce knew that the pair had been the definition of soul-mates, and where one went the other wasn't far behind.

 

‘Let me go…..it’s ok’

“Mr Dimitriov will be with you shortly,” the heavy built bodyguard passing as a personal assistant said, not taking his narrowed eyes off the rooms other occupant, who was for their part, still sitting patiently opposite the ornate desk.

A minute past and then another, whilst neither man spoke, one taking in the cityscape from the windows in front of him, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room or they just weren’t fazed by it.

“Would you like a drink while you wait?” clenching his jaw as he asked, trying in vain to get a feel for the smaller man, however there was just something unnerving about his silence that was putting him on edge.

“Vodka is fine,” turning his head slightly as he replied, as a smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth, fingers arched under his chin before he turned his gaze back to the window, dismissing the other man without another word.

Gritting his teeth, as brown eyes flared in anger as the blatant disrespect, he resisted the urge to snap the other man’s neck and throw him out of the office before his boss even got there. However, that was tempered by the knowledge of what his boss would do to him. Disposing of someone that had apparently information which would allow them to stay one step ahead of the rapidly reforming S.H.I.E.L.D, wasn’t something that would be looked fondly on after-all.

Blue eyes flicking towards the door that clicked shut, he wiped imaginary dust from his pant leg, briefly wondering just how much longer his client could keep his time wasting tactic up for. If they thought it was some kind of intimidation play, then they were seriously barking up the wrong tree, however he would let it play out for as long as it amused him. 

Picking up up a picture that was sitting on the desk in front of him, his fingers slowly traced the frame coming to a stop at the slight indentation in the bottom left corner. Picking at the thin layer off paint and wood, a snort of amusement nearly escaped him catching the glint of a small camera lens pointed at him. If he gave it more than a minutes thought, it seemed a bit too cliché to have a hidden camera in a picture on his desk.

Almost on cue, the door re-opened as he subtly placed the picture back on the desk, not even turning to look at who was coming into the office, only acknowledging anyone else was there when the man he was waiting sat down in the too large chair opposite him.

“Mr Dimitriov,” extending his hand across the table and offering a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, he took in the grey haired man, whilst at the same time fully away his bodyguard was standing several feet closer than he had been previous. “You have a lovely office.”

“Mr Romanova,” offering a tight smile in reply, ready to ignore the offered hand until he noticed the charm bracelet that slid down the younger male’s wrist. Fingering one of the charms, a guarded gaze flicked towards his personal bodyguard who was currently staring a hole in the back of younger man. “Where did you say you were from again?”

“Stalingrad.” Came the calm reply, if he could feel the tension in the room, he was doing a brilliant job of hiding it, as he took a slow slip of the vodka that had been placed in front of him. “I think we should move onto business Mr Dimitriov,” smiling good-naturedly as he slid the folders that had been resting on his knee across the desk.

“The Black Widow Project,” suspicion laced his words as the grey haired male tried to quell the nervousness that was forming in the pit of his stomach. 

The name of the project earned a barely hidden growl from his bodyguard, who started making his way closer to the pair of them, his fists clenching and unclenching in anger. He was only stopped by a subtle hand movement from his employer, however narrowed eyes stayed glued on the younger man, who so far had failed to show any sign he knew just how close he was to having his neck snapped.

“That project was shut down a long time ago Mr Romanova,” placing the folders back on the desk, without having opened them. 

“I thought we could have an honest conversation” replying tersely as he ran his fingers through his hair in irritation, not taking the documents back that had been offered to him. “Are you trying to say that building,” indicating out of the window towards a building that was less than five minutes away from where they were currently sitting, “isn’t a training facility?”

“I don’t know where you’re gett..”

“When S.H.I.E.L.D come, and they will come,” cutting off the attempt of ignorance. “They will take everything from you, everything! I’m offering you an out, tell me what you know and go into hiding.” Spitting his words out and he was no longer able to hide the anger that was bubbling up in him. Something that had been on the verge of bubbling over for the past few months, closing his eyes briefly as he forced it back down.

It was due to his brief loss of control that stopped him from noticing the guard finally making his move, no longer willing to wait before things got out of control. 

Blue eyes shot open feeling a strong arm wrapping itself around his throat, as he felt himself being dragged backwards out of the chair he had been sitting on, the tips of his shoes scrapping the floor.

“You think you can threaten me with S.H.I.E.L.D, Clint Barton?” mockingly asking his question, at the same time, letting him know he knew exactly who he was, Anatoly Dimitriov walked around his desk, disgust and hatred colouring his face as he stood inches away from the former Avenger. “By the time S.H.I.E.L.D get here, everyone in that facility,” pointing over his shoulder as he spoke, “will be placed wherever we need them to be.”Patting the younger man down, a small frown formed on his face not find anything on him that would hint he was being recorded, nor could he feel any weapons under his clothes.

“You won’t get out this country alive,” Clint spat at him in defiance, clawing at the arm around his throat as he tried to loosen the grip.

“I won’t leave here alive?” A mocking laugh tore free from his throat as he punched Clint in the face, enjoying the crunch of bone meeting bone. “You really should have brought that red headed whore you go around with, she really is better at infiltrating than you.”

Blue eyes burned with rage as his nostrils flared at the comment. He slammed his head backwards into the face of the man who had him by the throat, with a sickening crunch that broke his nose. He slammed his head back a second and then third time, each with the same crunch of bone meeting bone, as the grip finally loosened from his throat.

“Dee’mo!” Anatoly backed up watching as Clint lunged forwards, snatching the pen that had been sitting on the desk. He watched in horror, as the former Hawkeye spun on his heel, driving the pen into the throat of the man who had previously been choking him. 

The pen was pulled out with a sickening squelch before it was quickly driven back into the man’s throat, until less than half an inch was invisible from the wound and swollen flesh. Turning his murderous gaze to the older Russian, his face flushed with anger, and veins pulsating in his temples with each ragged breath he took. Clint could feel all the hatred and rage fighting its way out of him, just like he could back when she found him in Japan. The desire to make someone else feel his pain, that only seemed to get worse every day was almost overwhelming.

Sheer icy panic filled Anatoly Dimitriov’s veins as he shared into brown eyes, that only promised a slow and painful death. 

“Otva ‘li, mu ‘dak!” Scrambling behind his desk, fully aware that there was no chance he would be able to get around the man who was once called Hawkeye, not by himself anyway. His fingers danced across the underside of his desk, until he found the small panic button he had installed there. The small amount of relief that filled his body, knowing the room would be filled with guards within seconds, was quickly replaced by his nerve endings feeling like they were on fire. Brown eyes wide in terror, he lifted his arm staring down at the metal half bracer that was pulsing with the electric current that was surging through his body.

 

“Rhodey, it’s been four months. No one has heard or seen him,” Laura half sobbed, as the blue light of her video hologram illuminated the room, flickering out of existence as an orange tabby cat walked through it, before coming back.

“I know,” tiredly running both hands over his head, “we’ve got people looking for him. If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.” he finished lamely, his voice could barely be heard over the loud clap of thunder that signalled the oncoming storm.

“We’re his family, why wouldn’t he want to be here?” She asked making no attempt to rub the tears from her eyes. 

In truth, he didn't have an answer for her, at least not one that would offer her any comfort. Somehow Rhodey didn’t think she wanted to hear that they all had missing family members, following Tony’s funeral none of the Avengers hadn’t all been together. Hell, he didn’t even know where some of them had gone to.

“If we hear anything, you’ll be the first person to know.” Rhodey offered, knowing full well how false that sounded even to his own ears. At least it was a half truth, she didn’t need to know that there were reports of someone fitting Clint’s description in Russia having left a trial of bodies in his wake, looking for something only he knew. If it hadn't been for the reports from Mexico and Japan, from before they reversed ‘the snap’ then he would never have believed it was actually Clint.

“But you won’t hear anything, will you?” Laura replied smiling sadly at him, offering his own words back to him. She knew from the years she had spent married to the S.H.I.E.L.D agent just how easily he could make himself disappear.

Any further half-hearted assurances that Rhodey could offer her, were cut short as a screen on his desk lit up, informing him that someone had just come onto the Avengers compound, and was quickly making their way across the grounds with the familiarity of someone who knew exactly where they were going.

“I’ve...I’ve got to go,” Rhodey said before abruptly terminating the call, knowing that if she did call back then either Bruce or Wanda would be around to take it. “Jarvis, I want to know everyone who’s on the premises.” pulling a small handgun from the drawer, as he quickly made his way around his desk and towards the rear doors.

“Scans show, yourself, Wanda Maximoff and Bruce Banner,are currently in the compound.” Jarvis’ voiced bounced off the walls of the Avengers compound, causing War Machine to pause misstep in confusion, before quickly resuming his way out of the building.

“The grounds, who else is on the grounds?” drenched within seconds of him walking outside, resisting the urge to shiver as water ran down the back of his shirt. The only response he got was the jarring sound of static in his ear, causing him to pull the small earpiece out, letting it fall to the floor.

Letting a long pained sigh fall from his mouth, Rhodey spun on his heel having originally been heading towards the main entrance of the compound, realising just where his old friend would have been going. 

“Clint?!” Rhodey called out, as he made his way towards the memorial of the two fallen Avengers, gun stretched out in front of him. He hadn't spoken to his former companion since he had told them about Natasha’s sacrifice for him to get the Soul Stone, and what he had been doing before he had been brought back from Japan genuinely scared him. “Are you there?”

There was no response forthcoming, not that he was expecting one either, although that didn’t do anything to calm his nerves. His feet sunk into the wet mud underfoot, giving away his position if anyone was going to try and get the drop on him before fleeing the area. 

“We’ve been worried about you Clint,” speaking once again, not feeling comfortable with the silence that surrounded him. Brushing the water out of his eyes with one hand, as he reached the large memorial that had been built for Tony Stark, but it was the smaller memorial just to the left of it that had his attention. 

‘Fuck’ having half expected, or was that hoped, to see one of the original Avenger’s at the memorial, but there was no one there. Pushing his hands across his head in frustration, Rhodey turned in a small, slow circle praying to see anything that would give him a hint to whether the other male had gone to. 

Clink, clink, clink. 

Cocking his head to the side, Rhodey held his breath hearing the rain bouncing off of something. Turning to see just what was causing the noise, nothing immediately caught his eye as to what it could have been. It was only when a flash of lightning lit up the sky that his eyes were drawn back to the memorial. 

Resting on the top of Natasha’s memorial was a small silver necklace with a small arrow connected to it, sitting next to it was a charm bracelet with each bead etched with a red hued black widow [attern on it. 

Looking up at the sky, Rhodey sadly smiled at nothing, knowing full well what it meant. Hawkeye was done.

 

Deer’mo – Shit  
Otva ‘li, mu ‘dak – Fuck you, you asshole


End file.
